CAN I forget the sweet days that have been, When poetry first began to warm my blood; When from the hills of Gwent I saw the earth Burned into two by Severn's silver flood: When I would go alone at night to see The moonlight, like a big white butterfly, Dreaming on that old castle near Caerleon, While at its side the Usk went softly by: When I would stare at lovely clouds in Heaven, Or watch them when reported by deep streams; When feeling pressed like thunder, but would not Break into that grand music of my dreams? Can I forget the sweet days that have been, The villages so green I have been in; Llantarnam, Magor, Malpas, and Llanwern, Liswery, old Caerleon, and Alteryn? Can I forget the banks of Malpas Brook, Or Ebbw's voice in such a wild delight, As on he dashed with pebbles in his throat, Gurgling towards the sea with all his might? Ah, when I see a leafy village now I sigh and ask it for Llantarnam's green; I ask each river where is Ebbw's voice -- In memory of the sweet days that have been. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HILL WIFE: THE SMILE by ROBERT FROST THE PARTING OF THE WAYS by JOSEPH BENSON GILDER ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 74 by PHILIP SIDNEY IN PRAISE OF OLD AGE by ANAXANDRIDES BALLADE OF THE FOREST HAUNTERS by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE TO MR. BARBAULD, WITH A MAP OF THE LAND OF MATRIMONY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |